Grab a Book: Hammock Edition

Wasaga Beach, Ontario, Canada, July 1960. Mom relaxes after we finish the chores.

Snowy Driveway

Suburban Chicago, January 1963. I slip around, and Mom departs for rounds.

I earlier posted a clip from this day here; you can get a better look at Mom's adorable hat here.

We clear the walkways.

Suburban Chicago, December 1961. Mom and Dad take turns shoveling the walkways while my Toronto Cousin pulls my sled.

I earlier posted some still photos from that day here.

Use the turn signal.

Suburban Chicago, November 1960. My Mom asserted the other day that her beloved Buick, "The Swan," did not feature turn signals. She remembers signaling a turn with her arm. Buick, however, was the first U.S. manufacturers to install turn signals in its automobiles. So: perhaps the turn signals in "The Swan" did not operate properly.

(Here's another clip, and here's a still image, from that same day.)

Vacation Chores

Wasaga Beach, Ontario, July 1960. My Dad's twin sister, Jonė, and my paternal Grandmother, Tatjana, tidy around the cottage.

Off to Rounds

Suburban Chicago, May 1960. Mom drives to work in "The Swan." She's turning to the southeast, so it's likely she's going to one of three hospitals for rounds.

Start the day.

Suburban Chicago, January 1960. My paternal Grandmother, Tatjana, serves breakfast before we head outside.

На вкус и цвет това́рищей нет*

"In taste and colors, there are no friends." 

That's one of my Mom's favorite expressions. Mom grew up in a Lithuanian-speaking household. Her Parents, Jadzė and Jake, both spoke several languages, and Mom quickly picked up the Polish and German that occasionally slipped into conversations.

When her Parents didn't want Mom to understand something, they spoke in a more difficult language—Russian. Mom's Parents also entertained each other in the evenings by reading Russian novels aloud. Mom grew frustrated with these practices. She decided to teach herself Russian. Mom secretly made a set of Cyrillic-alphabet flashcards, and she spent time in her bedroom learning to read Russian.

Mom's Russian came in handy after she got married because her Mother-in-law—my paternal Grandmother, Tatjana—was Russian. My Parents and Tatjana continued the practice of switching to Russian when they didn't want me to figure out what they were saying. I've picked up a few Russian expressions, but I did not learn the language.**

What did you teach yourself?

Near Wasaga Beach, Canada, July 1960. I take the wheel of "The Swan."

*Pronunciation: Na vkus i tsvet [tzv]arischey n[y]et.

**Tatjana often called me a "Чёрт полосатый," (chyort polosatyy) or "striped devil." The Russian language preserves the tradition of associating stripes with the devil.

Bedtime

Suburban Chicago, December 1963. Close the garage door before you go to sleep.

Another Workday

Suburban Chicago, April 1960. Mom again heads out to the office.

Front Steps

Suburban Chicago, June 1962. Here's another photo taken fifty years ago. Mom, my paternal Grandmother Tatjana, and I stand on the front steps of my childhood home.

What did I see?

Suburban Chicago, May 1961. I've riden a short distance from the driveway, and this time, I am not wagging my finger. Here, I might be pointing at our neighbors' dog, Mikey—or maybe at their cat.

Summer Rental Cottage

Cape Cod, Massachusetts, July 1963. Here's another view of Mom's Buick, "The Swan," parked in front of our rental cottage.

Cottage Row

Cape Cod, Massachusetts, July 1963. Vacationers have settled into their summer quarters. My Mom's Buick, "The Swan," stands on the far right.

Northwoods Rental

Lac du Flambeau, Wisconsin, July 1962. My Mom stands next to our cottage. Her Buick, "The Swan," stands behind her. The trip to Lac du Flambeau is the first vacation that I remember.

General Merchant

North Bay, Ontario, Canada, July 1964. We've driven into town from our rental cottage on Lake Nipissing. The family Buick, "The Swan," stand in front of the store.

We did our own cooking at the cottage. This likely was the closest place to buy groceries.

"The Swan" in Cape Cod

Cape Cod, Massachusetts, July 1963. My Mom's favorite Buick, "The Swan," stands parked in front of our summer rental cottage. We've returned from the beach; the blankets are on the clothesline. The folding chairs are ready for an reading hour: there's no television on vacation. Big pines!

Let's go to "The Plaza."

A Melrose Park landmark, Winston Plaza stood at the intersection of Ninth Avenue and North Avenue. "The Plaza," as we called it, was across the street from Amling's Flowerland.

The Plaza was a hub of many activities, but at its heart, it was a shopping center. Most Melrose Parkers did all of their shopping at The Plaza. Two grocery stores—Dominick's (originally a Kroger) and Jewel—anchored the mall. Moms usually shopped at either Dominick's or Jewel, but never at both. We were a "Jewel family." (I leave discussions of "Foodtown" and "Bonnie Bee" for later posts.)

The Plaza had a Walgreen's and a number of other stores that attracted preteens and teens. There was, for example, a record shop, a Lerner Shop, and a discount store, Newberry's. Newberry's had wooden floors similar to those one usually found in a Woolworth's. 

The higher-end, department-style, store was Madigan's. My Mom bought shoes and underwear there occasionally. Madigan's had a small book department—toward the back, near the bathrooms. After my Parents took me to see Mary Poppins at the movie theater, they bought the official Walt Disney Mary Poppins book for me when we visited Madigan's one evening. I remember feeling very special that day.

One of the undercover security guards at Madigan's was a patient of my Mom's. We'd see her walking around the women's department, looking cosmically bored, spinning the dress carousels as she feigned interest in the merchandise.

My childhood home was less than one mile from The Plaza. I was not allowed to go there alone, or with my Best Friend, until I reached the Seventh Grade. After I got my big-girl bicycle, however, my Best Friend and I sometimes snuck away to The Plaza and illicitly bought things like lip gloss, Fritos, and Creedance Clearwater Revival records.

When I was much smaller, my Dad sometimes walked with me to The Plaza. One year, The Plaza featured an "attraction" for kids: an "Old Woman Who Lived in a Shoe" structure.

Suburban Chicago, February 1964. There's still snow on the ground, but Dad decides it's warm enough to make the 0.84-mile walk to Winston Plaza. "The Swan" stands in our open garage.

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Suburban Chicago, February 1964. We walk near Silver Creek as we make our way down Andy Drive, and across Fifth Avenue.

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Suburban Chicago, February 1964. We're getting close! There's the baptist church on the corner of Andy Drive and Ninth Avenue.

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Suburban Chicago, February 1964. We've reached the "Old Woman Who Lived in a Shoe" attraction.

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Suburban Chicago, February 1964. It's a lame, walk-through lure of nothingness.

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Verona, Wisconsin, February 2012. But cheer up! I still can go home and read Mary Poppins.

Rest Stop

Here, Mom and Dad paused as we made our way home from a summer in Glacier National Park. In this snapshot, they likely stood in western North Dakota.

During the drives back east, we often stopped at one of my favorite places, Theodore Roosevelt National Park in Medora, North Dakota.

Western North Dakota, July 1972. That's the copper Buick LeSabre with the ivory, vinyl roof. The copper LeSabre followed the gold Buick LeSabre, which came after "The Swan."

Sunday Rounds

Here's Mom, heading off to make rounds at the three local hospitals at which she admitted patients:

Suburban Chicago, February 1965. Mom stands next to "The Swan" on a snowy Sunday.